


an everburning flame

by seothsayers



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Minor Violence, Phoenixes, Square: Rebirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seothsayers/pseuds/seothsayers
Summary: Renjun is alone at the top of the tower when the phoenix bursts into flames.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56
Collections: THE COLLECTION





	an everburning flame

**Author's Note:**

> first fic for the Dream Lab bingo! this is for the square rebirth

Renjun is alone at the top of the tower when the phoenix bursts into flames. 

He knew it was coming, they all did. Renjun had volunteered for extra shifts in the hopes of maybe being here to witness the moment. The world’s solitary phoenix was old and the time for her to pass was near. Renjun had spent years learning about her, about her kind. He knew that unless he lived well into his second century then this would be the only opportunity for him to catch a glimpse of such a momentous sight. 

It’s bittersweet watching her over the course of her last few weeks, preparing her bed to become her grave, but if there was one thing he had learnt from working at the sanctuary, it was that all things came to an end eventually. 

Renjun waits until the fire dies down before he steps closer. The pile of ash begins to move and then she emerges – a magnificent bird once again a small, barely feathered hatchling. She cries out and Renjun moves, reaching out to stroke a finger down her back in comfort. She quiets and settles, letting out a few soft coos.

When Renjun lifts his hand she cries out again, louder this time. He rings the bell and waits. 

“You’re lucky,” Donghyuck says when he catches Renjun later. The Wardens had come quickly after he had rung the bell and sent him away to get some lunch and rest. Part of him wanted to protest but he knew they wouldn’t budge. It didn’t matter – he’d see her again soon anyway. ”Some of the Wardens have waited their entire lives to try and catch a glimpse of what you saw.”

“I know.” Renjun says. He breaks a bread roll in two and offers Donghyuck the other half. “I guess I was just in the right place at the right time.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “No.” He says, accepting the bread and tearing it into smaller pieces. “You were blessed.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve not heard the myths?” Donghyuck looks at him. 

“No. Not all of us have been here our entire lives.” He reminds Donghyuck. “And a myth is a myth. Aren’t they just that?”

“The existence of the phoenix is supposedly a myth.” Donghyuck counters. “Witnessing the moment of rebirth is a symbol of trust. She was waiting until she knew she was safe, with someone who would protect her should anything untoward happen. You were chosen.”

Renjun stops chewing on his bread and turns to Donghyuck. There’s nothing but sincerity in his eyes and Renjun swallows, an indescribable feeling building in his chest. 

“But why me?” Renjun mutters. There were plenty of people on the island who would have made valid candidates. There were Wardens who were in their seventies who knew more than Renjun could ever fathom, and there were people like Donghyuck who were born and raised here, having spent every waking moment dedicated to ensuring the phoenix was safe. Renjun was just an errant artist who boarded a boat from home at fifteen and never looked back. 

“She must have seen something special in you.” Donghyuck tells him. 

His voice is soft, and when Renjun looks over at Donghyuck, he smiles before swinging his legs and jumping down off the wall. He offers Renjun his hand and Renjun takes it, jumping down after him. Donghyuck squeezes Renjun’s hand gently in his own before letting go. 

Renjun mulls Donghyuck’s words over in his head for the rest of the evening. 

…

It’s a few days before Renjun gets to see the phoenix again. She’s already changing – her eyes are open now and her fiery red plumage is slowly starting to grow in. Once Renjun has set up his easel and palette, he steps closer and runs his finger down her back. She preens and then reaches over to nip at his finger with her beak. 

Renjun laughs. “I’m going to paint a picture of you. Is that alright?” He asks. 

He takes her quiet chirp as a sign of affirmation and picks up his paintbrush. 

Time at the top of the tower passes quickly. Renjun finds that hours seem to fly by like seconds. He stops what he’s doing every once in a while to pay the phoenix attention, rubbing at her head and singing her sweet songs, but he spends most of his time focused on getting her likeness down on his canvas. 

He doesn’t notice when the door to the tower creaks open, nor does he realise there is someone stood behind him until they speak up. 

“Is there anything you can’t do, Renjun?” Donghyuck’s voice is low, right beside his ear, and Renjun jumps, palette wobbling precariously in his hand. 

Donghyuck reaches round him to steady it, shooting Renjun a grin when he turns to glares at him over his shoulder. 

“You could have been out there, painting the world.” Donghyuck says. “Yet here you are.”

“I chose to come here,” Renjun reminds him. “I want to be here.”

“I know.” They’ve had this conversation a dozen times before, upfront and clear, veiled and implied. Donghyuck has a choice too – he could walk away from the island at any time, leave and never come back, but both he and Renjun knew he would never even consider it. “You should paint me.”

“So you keep saying.” Renjun turns back to his painting. Donghyuck doesn’t know about the sketchbook Renjun keeps tucked under his pillow. It’s his third, filled with charcoal drawings of familiar hands and bright eyes. If Renjun has his way, he’ll never find out. 

“Well you haven’t done it yet, so I’m going to keep pestering you until you do.” Donghyuck says. He rests his hand on Renjun’s shoulder. “Seriously though. Your art is beautiful.”

“It’s not finished yet,” Renjun mumbles. Sincerity from Donghyuck is growing more common nowadays and it catches Renjun by surprise every time. “Is there a reason you’ve come to bother us?”

“Your shift finished almost an hour ago,” Donghyuck says. “The Wardens sent me up to check on you.”

Renjun startles at that. “Why didn’t they send someone sooner?” He asks. 

“Whoever’s on the next shift was running late. Busy cataloguing phoenix tears or something like that.” Donghyuck explains. “I was just passing by and they sent me up here to get you. Come on, it’s time for dinner and I’m not letting you skip it again.” 

The phoenix cries out and Donghyuck turns to her with a quiet laugh. “You’ve already eaten,” He says. He steps away from Renjun and up to the plinth. Renjun watches as Donghyuck extends his hand and the phoenix nips at his fingers. “She’s a biter.” 

“She’s a growing girl,” Renjun tuts. He packs away his supplies and joins Donghyuck. The phoenix loses interest in Donghyuck’s tasteless fingers and turns her head almost immediately, nuzzling up into Renjun’s palm. “I’ll see you soon.” He tells her. 

When he lifts his hand she cries again, the same sorrowful song that she sang the last time. It pulls at his heart – if he could stay by her side forever, he would, but logically he knows this was just part of her growing up. In a few months she’d grow more independent, leave her nest and start exploring the island. Then she’d leave, possibly for good. There was nothing keeping here, but they tended to stick around – the constant food and care are enticing incentives. 

Renjun sighs and reaches out to stroke her back once more and she settles, seemingly happy with his silent promise. When Renjun looks up, he finds Donghyuck watching him, an indecipherable look on his face. 

“What?” Renjun asks. 

“Nothing.” Donghyuck smiles like he has a secret. It’s irritating and smug, but Renjun knows that there’s no use in pressing. Whatever it is, he’ll find out eventually. “Let’s get you some food.”

Renjun leaves the half-finished canvas at the top of the tower, far enough from the plinth that it wouldn’t get in the way whilst the other Wardens came and went, but close enough that the phoenix herself could see it – a reassurance that he would be back in no time. 

…

Renjun’s finished painting is framed and hung on the wall of the archives. It’s strange, seeing his work somewhere so central – dozens of people passed by every day. It was even stranger having people stop him to comment on his work – Donghyuck wouldn’t stop laughing at Renjun’s expression whenever a Warden told him they wanted to see more of it. 

“I told you your art was beautiful,” Donghyuck says one evening. He has made himself comfortable in Renjun’s room, in Renjun’s _bed_ , sprawled out in his night clothes and stealing the covers. 

“Don’t you have your own room to go to?” Renjun attempts to pull the thin sheets away from him, but Donghyuck is stubborn and has a stronger grip than he expected. 

“But then I would be missing your delightful company.” Donghyuck flutters his eyelashes and yanks at the sheet, sending Renjun falling down beside him. 

Renjun splutters whilst Donghyuck laughs and eventually they find themselves a comfortable position – Renjun with his head on Donghyuck’s chest, Donghyuck’s arm wrapped around him. Like this, Renjun could hear the thumping of Donghyuck’s heart in his chest and it slowly lulls him to sleep. 

…

Now the phoenix is a few months old, she doesn’t need doing the clock care the way she used to. She’s taken to exploring the island, leaving the tower through the giant windows and flying around in the summer heat. 

Renjun finds himself talking on fieldwork more often than not. During his breaks from picking the nectar berries from the trees, he can sit and sketch the plants and the wildlife. It’s calming, less stressful than sorting through the archives and filing reports. 

Today the sun is high in the sky and Renjun is sweltering in his crimson robes because of it. When he’s picked a few baskets, he sits down under the shade of the vines for a break, sipping at his water flask. 

He has his eyes closed, head tilted up to the sky, when he hears the sound of wings beating. They grow closer and closer until he can feel the breeze fanning his face and he opens his eyes. 

The phoenix is stood on a rock a few inches away from his feet. She tilts her head and looks at him, expectant. 

“Hello,” He smiles. “Here to keep me company?”

She hops closer until she’s balanced on his thigh and she presses her beak into the crook of his neck. Renjun lifts an arm to rub down her back. It doesn’t take long for her to make herself comfortable. 

Renjun still wasn’t used to this – having the phoenix’s undivided attention. He had thought it would pass, but if anything, she seemed to have grown more interested in him and what he was doing. When he was out in the fields she would find him and if he was working in the archives, Renjun would leave at the end of the day to find her perched on the great cherry tree in the courtyard, waiting. 

He can’t help but think about what Donghyuck had said – Renjun had been chosen. Now, more than before, it seemed to be the case. But why? What made him worthy of her love and devotion?

Like she knows he’s lost in his thoughts, the phoenix nibbles at his finger gently. It stings for a half a second and Renjun sighs. 

They sit there in the warmth for a while longer.

“I should probably get back to work.” Renjun says, standing up. She flies up to perch on his shoulder. “Do you want to give me a hand?”

That’s how Donghyuck finds them sometime later – the fruit baskets by Renjun’s feet full, his hands covered in the sticky yellow nectar that spills from the berries as he feeds them to the phoenix. Donghyuck bows to the phoenix and she bows her head back. 

“Do you want some help carrying these back to the tower?” Donghyuck asks. 

Renjun nods. The phoenix glides off his shoulder and settles on Donghyuck’s instead, and the surprise evident in his face. Renjun passes him a berry and watches as Donghyuck holds it up for her to take. She swipes it and once she’s finished eating, she lets out a melodic song. 

Donghyuck’s eyes light up in wonder and Renjun grins. Whatever her reasons were, he was glad that having the phoenix by his side could bring him moments like this. 

…

“You’re so distracting,” Renjun murmurs. 

He has Donghyuck on one side, his hands playing with the loose strings on Renjun’s shirt, and the phoenix on the other, pecking at his leg whenever she wants to be fed a berry. (She’s spoilt, but that’s his own fault.)

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Donghyuck asks. 

“Both of you.” Renjun sighs at sets down his paper and charcoal. He was supposed to be planning a new painting – the Warden’s had requested he paint the island’s landscape each season so they could display them in the Grand Hall. 

He hadn’t invited either of them to join him, but where Renjun went, both Donghyuck and the phoenix followed – it was something he had come to accept by now. 

“I give up.” Renjun says. “Both of you sit together.”

“Why?” Donghyuck asks. The phoenix tilts her head. 

“Because I’m finally giving you what you want,” Renjun says. “If I draw you, will you both promise to give me some peace?”

They spend hours at the top of the tower whilst Renjun works. When he finishes, he can’t help but smile. 

“Let me see,” Donghyuck stands, the phoenix perched on his shoulder. When Renjun hands him the book, he’s silent for a long time. The phoenix nips at his ear with her beak. “I don’t think words can describe how your art makes me feel.”

Renjun laughs, a little shy. Donghyuck sets down the paper and steps closer, holding his hand up to Renjun’s cheek. His lips touch Renjun’s in a feather light kiss and the phoenix sings. 

“We should put this in our room,” Donghyuck says, ignoring Renjun’s splutter of surprise. 

“ _Our_ room?” Renjun repeats. 

“I’ve been sharing your bed for months.” Donghyuck points out. 

Renjun sighs. “Okay. Our room.”

This time, when Donghyuck kisses him again Renjun is prepared. 

…

The alarm bells sound in the middle of the night. Renjun wakes up with a jolt to find the space beside him empty. He frowns – Donghyuck was definitely there when he went to sleep. Where had he gone?

Renjun quickly pulls on his robes and rushes out of their room. The halls of the sanctuary are busy with Warden’s shouting orders and others arming themselves. Renjun takes a dagger and makes his way towards the tower. 

In all his years on the island, he had only heard the alarm bells rung once – on his first day, when he had been given a tour and they had shown him the bell tower and rung them once so he knew what they sounded like. 

Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. 

Something deep within tells Renjun to stop when he reaches the courtyard. He feels a tug that tells him he needs to go into the trees and quickly. 

He takes a deep breath and changes direction. 

It’s so dark he can barely see. Renjun creeps along, wincing every time a branch snaps underfoot. His head is telling him to turn around, that his place is at the tower and that he’s being reckless by going out into the unknown, but his heart tells him that something is _wrong_ and that he can’t ignore this. 

It’s pure luck that he avoids any assailants. He sees their bodies on the ground alongside dead and injured Wardens and it makes him pause for a second. He steadies himself and then pushes onwards. 

He knows what he’s going to find before he steps into the small clearing. The overwhelming anxiety in his stomach reaches a peak and he bursts through the trees to see Donghyuck lying on the floor, three dead men by his side. 

Renjun rushes over. Whoever had attacked had gotten him right in the stomach and then blood was absolutely everywhere. Donghyuck had his hands pressed over the wound so he couldn’t see the full extent of the injury but Renjun didn’t have to be able to see it to know that this was bad. 

When Donghyuck sees Renjun, he smiles sadly. 

“You need to go.” Donghyuck says. “More assailants will be passing through–”

“I’m not leaving you here.” Renjun responds. “I would never.”

“I believe you.” Donghyuck says. “But sometimes what you want to do isn’t what you need to do. She needs you.”

Donghyuck lets out a raspy cough and Renjun feels like everything is crumbling down around him. He leans forward and presses his forehead to Donghyuck’s, squeezing his eyes shut. Renjun couldn’t decide whether fate was cruel for bringing him out into the trees just so he could watch Donghyuck die, or whether fate was kind for allowing him at least to have a goodbye. 

There’s a rustling in the trees and Renjun’s hand goes to the dagger he’s dropped on the ground. He looks around but he sees nothing –

Until there is a flash of red and from the canopy swoops down the phoenix. 

She lands beside them, head tilting to the side as she takes in the scene before her. Renjun grips onto Donghyuck’s arm tight as she lets out a mournful cry and lowers her head to rest on his hands. 

Renjun doesn’t realise what’s happening at first. Donghyuck’s breathing is growing slow and the tears are starting to cloud his vision. The phoenix taps her beak against Donghyuck’s hands until he removes them from his bleeding wound. Renjun wants to look away – the sight is gruesome and it isn’t how he wants to remember Donghyuck – but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to forgive himself if he does. The phoenix leans over Donghyuck and Renjun watches as with the drip, drip, drip of her tears the open wound starts to close inch by inch. 

Renjun holds his breath. 

It’s like time slows. Three hooded figures burst through the trees and Renjun lifts his dagger without hesitating and throws it directly towards them. It catches one in the shoulder, but it’s not enough to stop them from advancing. 

The wound isn’t fully healed, but it’s closed up enough that Renjun knows he would be able to get Donghyuck someplace safe to be treated – if they weren’t killed before then, that was. 

He glances around. There are swords a few feet away and he lunges out to grab one as the assailants step closer. 

The phoenix nips at his hand and Renjun glances down. She keeps nudging him until he strokes her head. In a split second she’s in the air, and then she’s spiralling towards the attackers in a ball of fire and fury. The trees around them go up in flames. 

…

Renjun feels like he’s dreaming as he makes his way back to the castle. He has one arm wrapped around Donghyuck, keeping him up right, and in the other, wrapped up in a stolen cloak is a newborn phoenix, nestling into his side. 

“I told you she chose you.” Donghyuck says. 

Renjun rests his head on Donghyuck’s shoulder and lightly squeezes his waist. 

“I believe you now.” Renjun says. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/seothsayers)


End file.
